


Treasures for My King

by Querel (Rednaelo)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-22
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-04 03:33:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/389277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rednaelo/pseuds/Querel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A knight discovers just how deep his affections for his prince actually lie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treasures for My King

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Pffffffffjesus. So, this is a gift oneshot for [lilispooks](http://lilispooks.tumblr.com/) who was one of my guests at my 4/13 livestream event.  This lovely follower of mine requested an EquiKar fic which quiet honestly I've never really even considered as a pairing before but it was an interesting challenge!  I was glad to be able to try it out.
> 
> My inspiration for this piece came from [these](http://sukkadoesfilthythings.tumblr.com/post/12137713142/that-is-not-how-kissing-works-you-idiots) [drawings](http://sukkadoesfilthythings.tumblr.com/post/11786981972/king-karkat-and-knight-archer-something)\--absolutely gorgeous--done by the amazing [sukka](http://haisukka.tumblr.com/)!  Honestly, I had no idea what I was going to do for this fic until I saw her pieces and I just thought they were so beautiful, I had to try out the AU. :3  I was also inspired by the song [Iron Infidel](http://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/iron-infidel), which never fails to give me goosebumps, so this fic includes my sort of tribute to it.  I suggest my readers listen to it in the background during the second scene; I think it makes it cool.
> 
> Ah...I really hope this is actually somewhat good and not complete shit like I think it is. XD
> 
> -Querel

That year, the spring arrived softly as a midday rain.  The cloudbursts covered the gardens in a blanket of diamond raindrops: on young petals in silky pearls and gently pinks and on bronze statues in their turquoise oxidized shells. Gravity brought the lingering drops down from the tree tops, clicking on the pebbled pathways and in the shade of the climbing roses where the Prince sat alone, his crown set down on the stone bench as he admired the jewels no craftsman could ever adorn his diadem with.

The Prince was silent as he sat, visibly weary but well concealed in the tall and twisting vines of the social climber roses and their newly born buds, still green around the stems.  It was there that Equius spotted him. 

The Prince had a habit of running off when he was upset and, as he had since he was a young boy, he usually retreated to the gardens to find solace and solitude.  Equius was still charged with guarding him, though, no matter the state of the Prince’s emotional distress.  So as the knight wandered the gardens, seeking His Majesty, he did not expect that on that day—in the year when spring covered all new blossoms with its cool and blessed kiss—that he would find not the Prince, but the boy he would come to love for the rest of his life.

Equius paused at the marble columns, hidden in vines of ivy as he watched, suddenly fearful.  Not of what he saw, but his own heart, which throbbed like it never had at the sight of Prince Karkat and the smile he bore.  It was something Equius hadn’t ever seen upon the face of the typically cantankerous prince.  Sure, there had always been “smiles” there: for visiting dignitaries and for the lowbloods who needed the consolation of their prince in these dark times of the King’s pressing illness. 

But those expressions were plastered, rehearsed.  Equius had seen it many times in his near decade of service as the Prince’s bodyguard. 

This was a smile as soft as the spring rain.  It gently curved beneath Prince Karkat’s fangs and bloomed all the way to his bright red eyes, turning them shadowy with a promise of a kind gaze for every young flower he looked upon.  That smile extended to the very tips of the Prince’s claws, making them gentle in their touches against thorned stems: claw touching green claw, neither one scratching the other.

It was like some sort of magic, that such a precious smile could exist with such a troubled heart and hot temper.  Equius lost his heart to that spell and never gained it back.

A fleeting moment, lost when Prince Karkat shifted his gaze just so and caught sight of Equius standing, his muscled form only just obscured by the column.  The smile vanished, replaced by the Prince’s usual scowl and furrow.

“Zahhak, what are you doing there?”

He took a brief moment to mourn the loss of the beauty he’d found, then Equius left his hiding place.  “Pardon me, Your Highness,” he muttered with a bow, “I was simply looking after you—”

“As is your duty,” Karkat finished for him, having heard the line many times before.

“As it is indeed.”  Equius straightened and moved to a spot before the Prince, eyes lowered. 

“Don’t hide yourself from me,” Karkat said, a sigh sliding out after it.  There was a gentle scrape of metal on marble as Karkat lifted the rose-gold circlet and paused, setting it on his lap instead.  “I don’t need you anywhere I can’t keep an eye on you and your great, hulking form.”

Equius blinked.

“That’s rather contrary to our roles, if I may say, Your Highness.”

“Yes, well, physical guard though you may be, I oft consider myself the guard of all who encounter you and your buffoonish antics.”

Equius swallowed hard, a familiar damp dewing at his brow.

“Please, I beseech mercy from your scorn, Sire,” he said softly.  “I pray you would not look upon your servant with such derision.”

“Whatever mockery I direct at you is merely an indicator of our intimacy, Zahhak, unfortunate that I am a part of it.”

Equius lifted his eyes and gazed upon his prince.  It was somewhat relieving to see him relaxed, his eyes tired but bereft of their usual indignation.  Equius knelt, setting his bow down in the grass.  He turned his face back towards the Prince, lifting his hands slowly: a question.

Karkat sighed again but took his hands from his lap and held them out, the gold rings glittering on his skinny, gray fingers.  Equius gently brought his palms upwards until the Prince’s rested gently against them, nestled in the cradle of Equius’s considerably larger hands.

“However bothersome you may consider me to be, Sire,” he began, looking up into Karkat’s face with deep sincerity, the beginnings of a bluish blush tingeing his cheeks, “I would forever extoll the delights of your company and the exult the depths of your kindness.”

The prince gave a short scoff, shaking his head as his fingers slipped away from Equius’s clammy grip.

“I fear you may be speaking of the wrong troll,” he said, turning his gaze aside.

Quick to protest, Equius opened his mouth but was interrupted by a loud wail.  It poured from the castle windows and fell over the gardens like a herald of woe.  Karkat jumped to his feet, putting the tiara back at its place about his horns.

He took not three steps past the archer before Equius followed.  Together they flew through the corridors, warmed by the spring sunlight and at the antechamber to the King’s quarters, they found the Queen Mother.

She was slumped on the floor, her face in her hands.  Tatters of the gossamer fabric that shawled her were strewn about, torn and forgotten.  She wailed endlessly, jade tears soaking her fingers. 

Equius stood his respectful distance away as Karkat ran to his grandmother and begged her to tell him what happened.

“Please,” he urged, taking her hands and holding them.  Equius could see them shaking but wasn’t sure if it was by the Queen Mother or the Prince.  “Please, do not leave me in suspense to make unhappy conclusions.”

Equius took a deep breath.  Even if he said that, Karkat had probably already assumed the truth.

“Do not ask me to say it!” the grieving mother wept.  She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him away.  “Do not look at me with his face; do not speak in his voice….  Away from me!”

Karkat paused, torn between a sort of heartbreak and filial duty, but eventually departed her company, leaving her to sob on the stone floors.  Karkat flung the door open to the chamber, letting a harmonizing chorus of weeping spill out into the corridors.

He froze but a few steps in, understanding immediately at the sight.

The King was dead.

A few steps from the doorway, Karkat sank to his knees, his broken heart so heavy, he couldn’t move forward.  And like that he stayed, staring at the bed where his father lay, surrounded by mourning loved ones. 

On that day, Equius knew that the smile he fell in love with would not return for a long, long time.

-X-

There was sun on the day of the funeral.  Equius was honored that he could attend, but honestly, it was only to continue in his duty of protecting the Prince, soon to be next King of Alternia.  Now more than ever, his life would be at risk.  As if the poor lad needed another cruel weight on his heart.

Equius stood offside near the front of the cathedral, his bow knocked but at rest as he gazed out over the congregation gathered to mourn the passing of their beloved king.  The archer had only spoken with the man briefly, to undertake the task of protecting his son.  But he remembered moments that Prince Karkat had spent in company with his family.

The King was a loving and merciful man.  His reign brought about the end of torrid wars and the beginning of great peace.  Such was his love for all trolls that no one could find an enemy in him.  Equius would forever respect the man who taught him that there was gentleness in all others, even when it was difficult to find.

At the close of the funeral, Karkat got to his feet; Equius redoubled his vigilance as he watched the Prince climb the steps to the altar.  The King’s sarcophagus lay, open face, overflowing with bright red lilies.  Karkat paused for a moment there at his father’s side, reaching his hand out as if to touch his face.

But he withdrew it and curled his fists together, bringing his hands back to his side.

Light streamed in through the stained glass windows, pouring over the King and his son.  The many colors—symbolic of every single shade in the hemospectrum—cast their own shades over the pure, shining white of Karkat’s mourning garb.

With an unsteady inhale, the Prince lifted his face towards the high ceiling, claws digging into his palms. Equius watched the gentle tremble of his shoulders.

And then, strong and unwavering, the Prince sang.  It was a hymn, a song of exultation that had been written in the King’s praise shortly after the bloodshed ended and the beginnings of serenity among the trolls began.  Many knew it.  None expected it, though.

Equius’s heart clenched as he listened to the Prince singing.  The sweet tenor rang through the arcs and traceries of the cathedral, drawing every soul to swell within those in company.  Karkat’s voice wavered at the end of the first verse, but then the organ joined in to support his a cappella.

As did every single voice in the space. 

Each troll rose to their feet, bringing their own words together with the Prince’s.  Even Equius found the melody spilling from his own lips, though he didn’t pride himself on being much of a singer. 

One thing he was confident in, though.  The new king would not be alone.  Not by the neglect of his people nor the faltering of Equius’s own loyalty.  He would be by Karkat’s side until the very end.

-X-

Three months after Karkat’s coronation, Equius found himself in the gardens again.  Only this time, it was at his own leisure.  He’d just come from his own promotion ceremony.  Now Head of the Guard, Equius spent his first moment in his new rank wondering.

He stood quietly by the fountains, watching, thinking….  Any other time, Equius would’ve taken deep pride in his new honor, but he found no lingering joy in his heart.  The kingdom still mourned their recent loss.  All those in the Court did as well.  But the new king….

Karkat had not shed a tear since the funeral.  Neither had he smiled.  Or even yelled.  He was a still and silent heart, robed in the richest red cloaks trimmed in ermine, adorned with the great golden crown his father once bore about his horns.  A picture of stoic magnificence; it was only a shell of the boy the archer adored.

 Equius could find no contentment in his heart while his King showed this mask to all others.  There had barely been any words between them since that day.  A deep worry had begun to take root and Equius was at a loss of how to help his King in the hour of his need.

“My dear Sir Equius, please tell me what troubles you so.”

Equius lifted his gaze to where the Princess was approaching.  The sight of her placid smile as she moved closer, the white of her gown shifting gently with each step—it only served to further splinter his heart.

“My Lady Nepeta,” Equius greeted, bowing low and then reaching to accept her outstretched hand.  He chastely kissed the back of it and then straightened again, looking down into her sweet face.  “Are you well?  Please tell it’s so.  I am privileged to be your Moirail but I fear I have not been dutiful to you in this time.”

Nepeta shook her head.

“No, it’s quite alright,” she insisted, reaching her hand out to take his again.  “You were there in the coming days of Father’s passing.  Most of my woes were soothed then quite well.  It’s a lie to say that his death has not struck me,” she sighed, “but I have dealt with my grief and am making my recovery.  Unlike His Highness, my dear brother.”

“You’ve noticed it too, then,” Equius said, his frown deepening.

“Of course I have,” Nepeta said, a slight smile at her lips.  “That you’ve noticed it yourself speaks volumes about your own distress.  Please, permit me to help you.”  Her serene smile widened.  “I think I know just what it is you _both_ need.”

-X-

“I don’t oft questions your motives for I know they all stem from the same communal impulse of idiocy, but what you doing, Zahhak?”

Equius was startled enough to jump back a pace.  He quickly averted his gaze from the King, casting his eyes to a corner instead.  Even so, a light sheen of sweat broke out over his gray skin.

“I-I beg your pardon, Your Highness,” Equius stuttered, his hands wringing about his bow.

Apparently, the Karkat had just emerged from his ablutions, naught but his dressing robe wrapped about him.  He sat on the bed with the robe slack off his shoulders, scowling in annoyance at the archer in the doorway.

“Tell me what it is you need and then be on your way.  I don’t know how much longer I can tolerate your presence.”  Karkat departed the bed and let the robe fall around his feet, reaching for the clothes that were laid out for him.  It took every single ounce of self-control for Equius to not look.

“Ah…that is,” he muttered, “I mean to say…. Oh…oh dear.”

“Out with it, man,” Karkat snapped.

Again, Equius was startled enough to shift backwards.  When he did, his eyes flicked up.  Thin shoulders….  A lean waist….  All lovely lines and ashen flesh, flushed just a little from the hot water.  Smaller and frailer but still so precious.

Equius turned right around and stared at the door, mopping at his brow with the back of his hand.

“Ah, uh, I ah, I merely wanted to inquire the state of His Majesty’s health.”  Equius swallowed, listening to the subtle shift of fabrics behind him, trying _desperately_ to not picture what he had turned away from.  “Y-you see, it’s been quite some time since we’ve had a conversation and….  Well, Sire, I was just wondering if you were alright.”

Silence slipped between the two and surrounded Equius’s rapidly beating heart with another layer of anxiety.

He heard the King sigh.

“Come here and help me with this.”

Equius turned: a slow, reluctant movement.  Karkat was mostly dressed, sitting on the bed once again, only the cords of his boots needed lacing.  The King reclined gently against the mass of pillows kept there, looking offside, his hair still damp and sticking to his face in some places.

“Are you expected somewhere, Sire?” Equius asked, approaching slowly.  He set his bow down and knelt before the King, reaching for the laces.

“No,” Karkat sighed.  “No, I’m not, but I can’t very well be expected to loiter around in whatever garb I please any longer, can I?”

Equius furrowed his brow, pausing in his task to look up.

“If I may say so,” he began, “I would hope that in my company you would not trouble yourself over ceremonial display.”  He chanced a small smile.  “Even though you are the King, you are also my friend.  I would only hope you would feel as comfortable in my presence as I do in yours.”

Karkat stared down into the face of his guard, scrutinizing the dark blue circles beneath his eyes—the constant sign of his care and attention—and the slightly awkward mangling of fangs that grinned hopefully up at him.  In the next moment, he saw a sparkle of recollection glimmer in the deep blue of irises and Equius muddled about in his pocket until he retrieved whatever it was he remembered.

It was a rose.  A pink social climber plucked from Karkat’s favorite corner of the gardens.  A young bloom, only opened halfway but still noticeably fragrant: sweet and spiced like the promise of summer sunshine. 

“I,” Equius said, looking sheepish all of a sudden, “I hope you will accept this with my wishes for you to find happiness in this new chapter of your life.  Woeful start though it may be, I pray that you know I will always be here to support you.”

Karkat sat silently for a moment.  Then he took the offered flower from Equius’s fingers and held it.  The petals were a little damaged in some places, but Karkat was impressed that the ridiculously strong troll managed to pluck the thing without having it burst off the stem. He raised an eyebrow and looked back to the guard who was still kneeling, cheeks considerably blue.

“Just how red are you for me, Zahhak?” Karkat asked quietly, his own blush rising.

Equius’s eyes widened and he swallowed harshly, fingers trembling.  Then a great inhale…and a slow exhale.

“As flushed and vivid as the blood in your blessed veins, my Lord,” he admitted, head bowed in shame.

“Hmm.  As I thought.  You are as transparent as ever.”  Karkat put the rose beside his pillow and then turned back to Equius.  “Well, do get on with it; you weren’t finished.”  He tapped his half-laced shoe impatiently.

“Ah, yes, of course, Sire.”  Equius swallowed again, biting back his disappointment and heartbreak.  As if he expected anything different.  Though they may have known each other for years, that stood no chance against things like difference in rank (a knight and a king, indeed!) much less the fact that Karkat had no returning intentions towards such a quadrant.

Well, at least Equius didn’t have to nurse an unrequited affection for long.  It was a new thing that came with the beginning of spring and was dashed just as quickly with the offering of that blossom.  Better to kill off hope while it was still young and fleeting.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

Equius stopped in his work, his fingered halting on the beginnings of the knot, and looked back up at Karkat.

“Sire?”

“I said, you’re doing it wrong,” a whisper low and toneless.  A secret.  “Go backwards.”

It took a good few moments for Equius to understand.  He searched for the answer in Karkat’s shadowed eyes, watched the blush blossoming over his cheeks in muted red and looked for help from the fangs that dug just slightly into his thin bottom lip.

“You fool,” Karkat finally groaned, reaching a hand out and flicking Equius in the forehead.  “Take my shoes off.”

Equius blinked, nodded and did as he was commanded, pulling the boots off the King’s feet.  Quiet settled over the two and Karkat curled an idle hand around the rose’s stem.    One glance at the still wide and wondering eyes of his knight…but he couldn’t look long.  The penetrating sincerity of that stare unsettled the peace between them.

Karkat sighed.  His other hand snatched out and wrung at Equius’s collar, jerking him up.  The motion startled Equius such that he pitched forward at an odd angle, hooking the King’s leg over his shoulder.  Karkat flicked an eyebrow up and leaned back once again.

“Sire, I—”

“Silence.”

Equius froze.

“You removed my shoes,” Karkat said, fingering lightly at soft petals and thorns, “now we remove everything else.”

Words tried to leave Equius’s mouth, but they choked halfway and tumbled out as strangled nonsense.

“Your Majesty, I don’t—”

“Call me by name.”

There weren’t even any nights he’d whisper it to himself in the absolute alone and silence.  Not in daydreams or reverent visions or even in the recent sonnets he’d composed in his own mind (half-finished, not at all worthy of recitation).

“My name,” Karkat whispered.

“I don’t…I don’t know if I can,” Equius whispered back.  A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face.

“Then stop wagging your tongue and find a more noble cause for it.”

His fingers slipped back into Equius’s collar and pulled again, gentler, his leg sliding down to hook around Equius’s elbow.

It wasn’t as if Equius had never shared a kiss with anyone.  This one was nothing like any kiss he’d dreamed of.  The gentle parting of the King’s lips was warm and invited a low moan out of Equius’s mouth.  In a spur of eagerness, he mashed their lips together.  It made Karkat bare his teeth a bit, his eyes rolling.

“Equius,” he growled against the knight’s mouth.  Slowly, Equius pulled away, eyes opening in half horror.  Karkat tightened his grip on the archer’s collar.  “Gentle with me.”  Equius let out a slow exhale.

“Oh, of course Your—”

“My name.”

Stuck between a sigh and another tense inhale, Equius just grinned at the scowl before him, wishing he could coax the sweet smile out from its hiding place.

“Of course I’ll be gentle…Karkat.” 

That did it.  The smile returned.  Happy and soft and lovely and Equius could think of nothing better than to laud over it.  Kiss after kiss, he placed upon that treasured smile, worshipping with his unworthy lips and imperfect fangs.  Gentle…gentle presses and little nips.  Slowly….

Karkat laid back as Equius climbed over him, pushing the ermine-lined cloak off the smaller troll’s shoulders.  He sighed, nestling himself in the cushions as he drew the rose to his face again, taking a deep inhale while Equius undid the fastenings on Karkat’s vest, kissing the exposed skin as he went.

“You’re the greatest fool I know,” Karkat sighed, arching upwards a little.

“Willingly admitted…Karkat,” Equius murmured against the shallow dip of his navel.  “Your fool, absolutely.”

“Romantic fool,” Karkat gasped, his fingers relinquishing the flower to card mindlessly though the silk strands of Equius’s hair.  Strong fingers unbuckled the belt and unlaced the ties of Karkat’s breeches.  “A fool that’s taken years to finally grasp my affections.  Your naïveté only makes me pity you more.”

Equius lifted his head , his hands still steady on Karkat’s hips, shifting the fabric off of him, and let his smile glow quietly up at him.

“I find the way you hide your sadness from the world quite pitiable, myself,” he said gently.  Equius ceased in his task and moved upwards to lie at Karkat’s side.  Against the King’s face, his great hands made a full cradle for that narrow jaw.  And Equius searched Karkat’s eyes.

“Please don’t hide it from me,” he said gently, running his thumb along a cheekbone.  “Let me be the only one…privy to your most pitiful moments.  Let me hold you in those times.”

“Babbling…romantic…fool….”

Karkat scrunched his eyes shut and shook his head back and forth, clutching Equius’s hands tightly, claws digging in.  Equius leaned and put his forehead to Karkat’s and whispered,

“Let me.”

Like a great retraction into agony, memories of weeks past and loneliness crashed around Karkat, and with a poorly withheld sob, the tears began to flow.  He curled up his legs, letting himself become small in Equius’s arms.  Equius held him tight as he could without breaking him: a difficult but happy challenge.  He smiled in a sort of triumphant melancholy as Karkat steadily descended into absolute shambles.

His sobs were great and gulping, wet and hideous.

“Miserable …frail and sickly old wretch!”  Karkat yelled into Equius’s chest, beating at it. “How…dare!   Dare you leave me…!  Oh…gog…what do I do? What…what do I do?”

Equius shooshed softly, like lulling background music to Karkat’s lamenting.  All while gently stroking the curve of the smaller troll’s spine.

Karkat had many words to curse his father with, all of them obviously insincere and tacked with bouts of wailing helplessness right behind them.  But steadily, he descended into sniffling, hiccupping quiet.  And in the stillness, when calm finally settled, Equius tilted Karkat’s head and kissed him again.  And again.  And again. 

He kissed every spot of uncovered skin and bared what was covered until the Karkat’s searches for air became desperate again, for a different reason this time.

“Don’t you…,” Karkat panted, “don’t you dare stop.”

“Command me again,” Equius pleaded.

“Conceal your fetish more diligently, Equius,” Karkat laughed, leaning into the kisses at his jaw.

“Does it embarrass you?”

“Hardly.  It’s endearing.”

“You flatter me.”  Equius smoothed his hand down Karkat’s front until he twined his fingers with the curling reach of Karkat’s bulge.  Karkat groaned and arched hard into the touch.  The red tendril wrapped around Equius’ wrist as he pressed gently into Karkat’s nook.

Karkat pushed hard on Equius’s shoulders until he finally got the hint and lay on his back.  Karkat rumbled incoherent frustrations as he tore away at the fastenings of Equius’s clothes.  Eventually, he got to the answering bulge in its own bright blue, dauntingly and wonderfully thick.  Karkat moaned and pushed his hips towards it.

Equius wrapped his fingers around Karkat’s sides and smiled up at him.  The king…naked but for the cloak that was draped loosely around his arms, red as the blood in his veins.

“You’re so radiant,” Equius whispered, his fingers caressing where they held.  Sweet pleasure ran through him as their bulges twined, undulating back and forth, sending shivers between the both of them.

Karkat rocked his hips back and forth, looking down at his knight with his lips parted ant wet, breathing slow.  Such a strong, beautiful troll.  The broken horn, weary eyes and mouth of crowded fangs only fostered more feelings of pure pity in Karkat.  He reached out and steadied himself with one hand on Equius’s shoulder, while the other stroked the bigger troll’s cheek.

There was an intrusive shift as Equius slid his bulge up into Karkat’s nook.  Karkat’s head fell back, his mouth open, and a breathless cry spilled out.  Inside, the blue bulge twisted and nudged against the dripping walls.  Together, sticky puddles of purple smeared along spread thighs and rippling muscles.

“Bucket?” Equius asked, gasping as Karkat’s bulge wrapped around the base of his own.

“Under the bed,” Karkat said softly.

There was a pause as Equius sat up and gathered Karkat against himself—cloak and all—and stood, shifting his foot under the bedskirt until he pushed the bucket out from under it.  The first sounds of genetic material hitting the bottom of the pail almost sent Karkat into a frenzy.  He wrapped his legs tight around Equius and gripped hard at his shoulders.

Equius supported him effortlessly.  His bulge pushed in and out of the wet folds of Karkat’s nook turning against that sweet spot in him on every other thrust and pushing a gasp from the King’s lips. His pace increased and when Karkat could stand it no longer, his face pressed to Equius’s sweaty neck, he cried out, muscles clenching tight around Equius’s bulge and red gushing from between his legs.  Every muscle in Equius’s body tensed and the slopping sound of their genetic material mixing in the bucket filled the chamber, masking the lowness of their moans and gasping.

They breathed.  Equius took a deep inhale and crawled back onto the bed, still holding Karkat just as tightly until he was sure the King would rest gently against the pillows.  He smiled at him, finding the forgotten rose and returning it to Karkat’s hand before wrapping his arms about skinny shoulders once more.

“If you will have me, I will treasure you forever, Karkat…my King,” Equius whispered, kissing the dampness of Karkat’s brow in a sealing promise.

Karkat smiled and nestled himself closer, cradling the rose in the space under his chin, its fragrance filling his head with a lingering sweetness.

“I’ve always had you, fool,” he said softly, kissing the closest bit of skin he could find.  “I don’t intend to be generous with what’s rightfully mine.  I’m going to be an awfully greedy king.”

Equius chuckled.

“I don’t think anyone will criticize the greed you speak of, Sire.”

-End-


End file.
